


If the Fates Allow...

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 19:31:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11341848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Holiday vignette. It's beginning to sound a lot like Christmas.





	If the Fates Allow...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

If The Fates Allow by Halrloprillalar

DISTRIBUTION: OK for Archive/X and the Socks Shoppe. Elsewhere by permission. Email forwarding OK.  
RATING: Slash, R for adult themes  
SPOILERS: None  
SUMMARY: Skinner/Pendrell. Holiday vignette. It's beginning to sound a lot like Christmas.  
NOTES: Be warned, this is mostly dialogue. I didn't have the time or scope to write a full-blown "Skinner meets the Pendrell family" story so this is just some bits of chat when they're alone.  
DISCLAIMER: Skinner, Pendrell, and the X-Files are owned by Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox.  
December 1998

* * *

If The Fates Allow  
by Halrloprillalar <>

Christmas Eve

"Walter, I want to drive now."

"There's nowhere to stop."

"The shoulder is huge - just pull over anywhere."

Skinner gripped the wheel more tightly. "What's the big deal?"

"I like to drive, it's my car, we're going to my mother's house." Pendrell toyed with the candy canes in the Volkswagen's bud vase. "But, no, you have to drive."

"I don't have to drive; it's just not convenient to switch drivers right now."

Cellophane crackled as Pendrell opened a candy cane and sucked on it. "You know what it is? You're nervous about going into an unfamiliar and stressful situation so this is your way of asserting some control."

Skinner flashed a glare at his passenger. Dammit, he was probably right. "What's with all this goddamn pop psych, Daniel?"

Candy cane clenched between his teeth, Pendrell leaned back in his seat. "Ah, Walter, I'm so glad you asked that. You might remember that a couple of weeks ago, we had plans to take a vacation. Do you remember?"

Shit, he would wait to bring that up now. Skinner kept his eyes on the road and concentrated on not betraying his annoyance.

Pendrell sucked noisily on his candy. "So, I took a week off work. And I arranged for someone to look after Lucy and the other animals. I rescheduled my experiments. I cancelled appointments and did all my laundry. And then, at the very last minute, you had to work."

Diversionary tactics. "You shouldn't suck on that while we drive. What if I had to stop suddenly?"

"So now you're turning into my father before my very eyes. If he weren't already dead, you two would probably have killed each other. Or banded together against me." Pendrell brushed the sticky end of the candy cane over the back of Skinner's hand.

"Bastard." Skinner almost lifted his hand to lick off the tacky sweetness, but decided not to give Pendrell the satisfaction.

"The closer we get to my family, the more Freudian this all becomes." Pendrell crunched off a length of candy. "Anyhow, don't think you've managed to change the topic. Not only did you have to work but you wouldn't even pull any strings so I could change my vacation time."

Guilt. Great. He already felt like a pincushion over this, needles of guilt sticking out all over, a voodoo doll of culpability. Now Daniel had to plunge the knife in too. "And so the pop psych is to make me pay? Is that it?"

"No, the pop psych is because I spent a week at home watching daytime television. I learned a lot about life, sitting there alone on the couch, bored, listless, and sexually frustrated." Pendrell snapped off another striped chunk of candy. "You have not yet begun to pay. I'm holding off until after the holidays."

"How considerate."

"Anything for you, Walter." Pendrell scanned the radio stations until Randy Travis filled the car.

"Since when do you like country music?" Skinner could feel the tension headache coiling like a snake at the base of his skull, ready to strike.

"I don't. But my dad always did so I thought you might too."

Oh God. "OK, Daniel, you can drive your fucking car. Talk about controlling." He pulled over onto the shoulder and stopped the car. "Happy now?"

"Delirious."

They both unbuckled and got out, meeting in front of the car. Pendrell took Skinner by the shoulders. "Don't worry. We'll survive the visit."

The snake uncoiled a little and Skinner smiled. "As long as your mother likes me."

"Likes you? She'll probably want to keep you. Then we could actually be on daytime television."

"Just get in and drive."

Pendrell grinned. "Yes, dad."

"Fuck you."

They crossed and got back in, adjusting the seats and buckling up.

"Walter, did I ever tell you that dream I had about you and the Batmobile?"

***

"Are we there yet?"

"Not yet, Walter. And we can't switch roles now, so knock off the whiny kid act."

Skinner stretched his legs out as far as he could. "Sorry." He took off his glasses, then let the seat back down a little. "Let's review. At your house: your mother, Gladys, likes entertaining, reading Maeve Binchy, volunteers around town; your grandmother, Mrs Kreuder--the one who knits all that stuff, visiting from Florida; your sister, Lisa, degrees in English lit and history, working as a waitress, likes--"

"Likes making my life hell and not much else," Pendrell said. "And don't forget her new jerk boyfriend, whatever his name is--"

"Cameron, bartender."

"How did you know that?"

"You told me, Daniel. I remember things."

"You're perfect. It makes me ill. Anyhow, Mom didn't sound too thrilled with him. Not that she ever is with Lisa's friends."

"And what about your friends?" Little mice of anxiety nibbled at Skinner but he shooed them away. Adult men, men in his position, with his experience, didn't worry about what impression they'd make.

Pendrell laughed. "I seem to be the fair haired boy in the family, God knows why."

"I'm sure I don't know either." Skinner turned to look at Pendrell and knew exactly why. He smiled, just a little so Pendrell wouldn't notice. "What's our schedule once we're there?"

"Meet the family, have late lunch, party at six with one million people who will pinch my cheek or pat my head or take me by the shoulder and give me good advice."

"Plastics."

"Mrs Robinson, you're trying to seduce me." He flashed a grin at Skinner. "After everyone leaves and we're tired, cranky, and possibly drunk, we gather around the Christmas tree and open our gifts."

Skinner stared. "You open your gifts on Christmas Eve? Not in the morning?"

"Sure, don't you?"

"No. That's very weird. What do you do in the morning, then?"

Pendrell smiled again. "Sleep in, what else? Anyhow, Christmas Day we help Mom with the dinner, take a walk through the park, eat, and sit around drinking eggnog until we have a fight. Then we leave or go to bed and everything is back to normal."

"If your family opens gifts on Christmas Eve, they can't be normal." Skinner closed his eyes, but they flew open again when Pendrell jabbed him in the side.

"Who died and made you Martha Stewart, Walter?"

Enough. "Sorry, sorry. Just wake me when we get there, OK?" Skinner's ability to sleep whenever he wanted to had gotten him through a lot of difficult times in life. This was beginning to qualify.

"Bring back some sugarplums for me." Pendrell reached over and ran his thumb down Skinner's cheek.

"Mmm..." Skinner took the touch with him into his nap.

***

Hand on his shoulder, shaking, voice, speaking. "We're here."

Bang, awake, alert. Skinner blinked and fished his glasses case out of the net bag in the door. They were stopped already, parked in a driveway beside a snowy lawn and a big yellow house. As he took it all in, Pendrell leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Time to go in, Skipper. Or do you want to live forever?"

They got out and Skinner balanced his coat, his suitcase, Pendrell's coat, Pendrell's suitcase, Pendrell's trailing scarf, and a shopping bag bulging with gifts. Empty handed, Pendrell meticulously checked his car, making sure each door was locked, each window closed, frowning at some mud spatters on the hood.

Skinner stamped his feet, more in impatience than to keep them warm. "Daniel, it's freezing out here. Come on."

Pendrell breezed past him, bounding up the front steps. Skinner sighed and followed more slowly with his precarious load. He pondered dropping the scarf in the snow for spite, but probably Mrs Kreuder had knitted that too so it wouldn't be politic. But just you wait, he threatened silently.

And they went in.

***

"I can't sleep."

"How do you know that, Danny? We just got into bed." Skinner opened his eyes and stared in the general direction of the ceiling.

"Don't call me Danny."

"That's what your mother calls you."

"Are you my mother, Walter? I don't think so. And don't talk to me about my mother. It's her fault I can't sleep."

"Did she make you drink too much coffee?" Skinner propped himself up on one elbow, facing Pendrell in the dark.

"No, she made my room into a sewing room so now I have to sleep in the guest room."

"So to get back at your mother you're going to stay awake all night? So when she sees you red-eyed and haggard in the morning she'll clear out all her stuff and put your room back the way it was?"

Skinner felt the bed move as Pendrell stretched out. "Something like that. Did you enjoy the party?"

No. "It was OK. I would have preferred a more quiet evening." At home. Just the two of them and the cat. "You?"

"Considering that all I did was refill punch glasses all evening, it wasn't bad." Pendrell rolled up too and now Skinner could see him faintly. "Did you like your present?"

Reaching out, Skinner slid his arm around Pendrell. "I did. I needed that Sackett book for my collection and I'm assuming that the compass includes your company on an orienteering hike."

"Let's not go that far, Walter." Pendrell's teeth shone white in the dim as he smiled. "And thank you again for the videos. While you're out orienteering, I'll be home watching Battlestar Galactica with a cup of hot chocolate."

Was it worth volunteering to watch Pendrell's sci-fi in order to coerce him to come camping? Feeling the warm skin beneath his hand and smelling the nearness of his lover, Skinner decided that it was indeed. In fact...

Inching closer, he began to move his hand, stroking up and down Pendrell's back. He kissed Pendrell's shoulder, his neck, his chin.

"Wait, Walter..."

The corner of his mouth, below his ear.

"Not here."

Damn. "Not here? Then where? Under the Christmas tree?"

Pendrell didn't move but he seemed to shrink a little, turn inward. "Not here at my parents' house. I feel...funny."

Skinner pulled back. "Funny. Your mother isn't right next door, is she?"

"No, that's Lisa and Cameron."

Cameron. Evil smiled its way onto Skinner's face. "I'm sure Cameron would be disappointed if we didn't keep him up with our depraved behaviour."

Pendrell laughed. "It would serve him right. What a jerk."

"I hope your mother's not mad about what happened."

"Not at all; she thought it was funny. Do you suppose he learned anything?"

Skinner chuckled deep in his throat. "If nothing else, he learned it's not smart to disparage someone's sexual preferences while standing under the mistletoe."

"Anyway, my mother loves you. It's Walter this, Walter that. 'Walter said he'd make the stuffing for the turkey. He knows a special recipe.' 'Walter is such a gentleman.' 'Walter picked out the most thoughtful gifts.' Walter, Walter, Walter. She's obsessed."

Relief and a hint of amusement rippled through Skinner. "I'm glad I made a good impression. She's probably glad you're happy. Maternal concern."

"Maternal like Jocasta. Next stop, talk shows. 'My mother stole my male lover and he adopted me. I Used To Date My Dad -- next on a very special Sally Jessy Raphael.' Though I'd rather be on Oprah. And who says I'm happy? I can't sleep."

An idea -- tricky, careful... "If you spend the night tossing and turning, I won't get any sleep either."

"You don't deserve to sleep."

"I'll be red-eyed and haggard."

"Good." Pendrell bounced the bed a little.

"Your mother might notice. And be concerned. I can't be responsible for the consequences."

Pendrell stared a moment, then fell onto his back, laughing nearly out loud. "I concede. Your point. You win. Game over."

Now. Skinner resumed kissing where he'd left off, below the ear, sliding toward the mouth. "I win, right?"

Still laughing, Pendrell put both arms around Skinner and fit himself into the embrace. "You win, Walter. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Chr--" The words were lost inside a kiss.

The clock in the hall struck twelve.

***

Christmas Day

Finally everything was stowed away in the little car, luggage and presents in the back seat, boxes full of the detritus of Pendrell's old room in the trunk.

"Walter, you drive, OK?"

"It's your car, Daniel. You drive."

"I'm too sleepy. I ate too much. And someone kept me up late last night."

"So now you're blaming me instead of your mother?" Skinner got in behind the wheel and let the seat back.

Pendrell buckled himself into the passenger side. "You're here. She's not."

"And what if I'm too sleepy? I was up just as late, I ate just as much." Skinner summoned up some reserves of energy so he could continue the argument. "We could have stayed over and left in the morning."

"No, *some* of us have to work tomorrow. *Some* of us have already used up all their vacation time."

"I don't think it qualifies as 'after the holidays' until we get back home. Can you drop the vacation argument until then?" Skinner backed out of the driveway. "I need you to navigate until we're out of the city."

Detente ensued while Pendrell gave Skinner directions. When they pulled onto the open road, Pendrell picked up a candy cane and leaned back into his seat.

"The stuffing was delicious, Walter."

Skinner felt the corners of his mouth turn up before he could stop them. "Thanks."

"How many recipes did you exchange with my mother, anyhow?"

"Just the one."

"Any household tips? How to get your whites their whitest? How to keep your refrigerator smelling fresh?"

Dusk was gathering and Skinner was glad his face was shadowed. "Just tips on how to handle you, Danny."

"Don't call me that. What did she tell you?" Snap, crunch, half the candy cane gone.

"If I told you, the tips wouldn't be effective." Skinner decided to test one. "And how was your chat with Lisa?"

Vicious snap, savage crunch. "All she did was lecture me. About my life. And my job." Cellophane crumpled, tossed to the floor. "It's all projection, transference. She's the one with the problems, not me." Pendrell turned to Skinner. "There's nothing wrong with my job, is there?"

Hot damn, it worked. "Nothing. You do necessary work and you do it well."

"You're not just saying that to get me into bed?"

"I never needed to before." Skinner permitted himself a small smirk.

"Mmm." Pendrell lapsed into silence for about ten minutes, then spoke into the darkness. "We did it. We survived. We faced the family. And we're still speaking."

"Still bickering."

"Same thing. And I can't wait until Mom sends those pictures of Grandma measuring your head."

Oh shit. "There are pictures?"

"There will be. And when she finished knitting the hat and sends it out, there will be more pictures." Pendrell pinched Skinner's cheek. "You'll look so cute."

"How important is it to keep Grandma happy?"

"She's very well off and I still have payments to make on this car."

"Ah." Skinner rolled his neck from side to side, trying to relax a little while staying alert.

"Walter." Pendrell's voice focused into seriousness. "Thank you for coming home for Christmas with me. I know it was stressful and I appreciate it."

"Thank you for inviting me. I'm glad I went." He glanced over. "Though I'll be glad to just stay home quietly now."

"Yeah, quietly."

"No fuss." Just the thought was enough to fill Skinner with warm happiness.

"No, no fuss."

"No stress." Major muscle groups rejoiced and relaxed.

"No stress at all."

"No parties." Social skills sighed with relief.

"Um, Walter?"

"Yes?" Anything you want, Daniel, he thought. I'm feeling generous.

"What are you doing New Year's Eve?"

F I N I S

I'll have my stocking hung for feedback. Treats or coal to .


End file.
